


Star Collection

by Silas_Writes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Advisor lance, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Attempted Murder, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, empress allura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silas_Writes/pseuds/Silas_Writes
Summary: Before he could strike, the Galran caught movement out of the corner of his yellow eyes. He managed to narrowly avoid a knife expertly flung at his neck. It barely grazed over the skin of his throat. He turned his attention to the Altean man who stood before a full length window. The passing galaxy’s sun cast the room with a soft glow from behind him. The man spoke with a hard edge to his voice, “By order of the Empress, you’re under arrest for high treason against her majesty. Surrender yourself to me, and your life may be spared.”





	1. Chapter 1

Dimmed, turquoise light bathed the corridors that a lone Galran snuck through. He kept close to the walls and alcoves, keeping an eye out for the guards that patrolled the castleship. His steps were light, hardly making a sound, despite his bulk. Purple, bat-like ears folded back as he neared his destination. Strangely enough, the room lacked any posted guards at its mechanical doors. His brow furrowed in momentary confusion, but the Galran shrugged it off, determined to complete his task. He slipped into the room, his clawed hand already unsheathing the dagger that was strapped to his thigh. He tiptoed to the bed where a figure slept curled under a heap of soft looking blankets. His free hand reached out to pull back the fabric, blade held at the ready.

Before he could strike, the Galran caught movement out of the corner of his yellow eyes. He managed to narrowly avoid a knife expertly flung at his neck. It barely grazed over the skin of his throat. He turned his attention to the Altean man who stood before a full length window. The passing galaxy’s sun cast the room with a soft glow from behind him. The man spoke with a hard edge to his voice, “By order of the Empress, you’re under arrest for high treason against her majesty. Surrender yourself to me, and your life may be spared.”

The Galran snarled in response as he turned towards the other, readying to launch himself at the Altean. Unexpected pain exploded from the back of his skull. His hand dropped his weapon at the surprise attack. He didn’t even have time to process what had just happened when he was bodily lifted and flung through the air. He hit the wall hard, his ears ringing. He rolled onto his feet, trying to clear his head. However, he was halted in his second attempt at a counterattack by a hand gripping him by the tuft of hair at the top of his head and using the hold on it to slam his head into the wall behind him, effectively turning his world to darkness.

Pain throbbed from the back of the Galran’s head as he returned to consciousness what felt like seconds later. His yellow eyes blinked open blearily, a soft groan rising at the back of his dry throat. He tried to assess his current situation as his vision cleared. His hands were bound behind his back. He, currently, was laid on his front, but he still seemed to be in the room he had been in before. Only, the room was now well lit.

“He’s awake, my empress.” The voice startled him, but it was due to the extensive training he had gone through that kept him from flinching. Instead, he slowly lifted his head as well as he could in his position with a heavy glare plastered over his scarred face. It was also due to that extensive training that kept the glare on his face when he was met with the sight of a breathtakingly beautiful Altean sitting cross legged on the floor before him. The Altean’s expression was passive, almost bored as he stared back at the Galran.

The shuffle of a dress dragging along the floor took the Galran’s attention off the male. His attention, instead, was given to the towering woman that stepped up behind the other Altean. The glare nearly faltered as his ears flicked, fighting the urge to fold them back. He had never encountered an Altean woman so large before. He settled for baring his fangs at her as his ears won the fight to fold. The empress merely looked down her nose at him as if he were nothing but dirt on the bottom of her shoe. “Who sent you?”

The Galran only growled, keeping his sharp teeth bared. A hand grabbed his face, cutting the growl off as his ears flicked back forward in alarm. The Altean male that had been sitting now kneeled before him, hand around his jaw with a bruising grip. Displeasure was clear in his expression as he hissed, “You answer the empress when she asks you a question.”

“Lance,” the empress spoke, voice calm but full of authority, “release him.”

Lance obeyed instantly, shuffling back and standing a fair distance away as the empress knelt down in his place. Her white curls swayed where they cascaded down her back and spilled over her shoulders. She clasped her hands in her lap, her cold, blue eyes still on the Galran’s face. She tried again. “Who sent you?”

This time, the Galran answered in a low, vicious growl, “The ones who are going to end your tyrannous reign.”

“Lovely.” She appeared unphased by his answer as she gracefully rose to her feet. She turned to exit the room, the doors sliding open with a low hum. The words she spoke next sent dread icing through the Galran’s veins, but he swallowed it down. He knew this was a possibility when he took the job.

“Execute him.” Then, she was gone, the doors shutting with a harsh sounding thud behind her.

The Galran was hefted up into a sitting position by Lance. He didn’t know how to feel about being so easily moved about. His glare returned, and he fixed it on the Altean he was left with. Lance pursed his lips, hip cocked to the side with a hand resting on it. “What’s your name?”

The Galran’s glare faltered, confusion causing his nose to scrunch up slightly. “What?”

Lance lifted a brow cooly. “Did the empress knock your brain into an alternate reality? I asked you for your name.”

The glare returned. “Why would you care? You heard your master, yupper. I’m to be executed. Just kill me already, or are you so weak?”

An icy look touched Lance’s face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. He squatted down so that he was eye level with the Galran. “Can’t a guy know the name of the person he’s going to be taking the life of? I happen to have standards, you know.”

A growl rumbled in the Galran’s chest, but he relented. What did it matter if the Altean knew his name? He was about to be dead. He averted his gaze to the side, refusing to look Lance in the eye as he grumbled his name. “Shirogarthak.”

Lance blinked, eyes checking out the Galran as he attempted to repeat the name, but it stuttered in his mouth. He frowned. “I’m just gonna call you Shiro.”

Shirogarthak growled, eyes snapping back to him, “No.”

“Why not? Don’t like it?”

“You are not my mate,” Shirogarthak spat, fur bristling as he bared his teeth, “Shortening one’s name is only for mates.”

“Only for mates, huh? You got one?” An easy smile touched Lance’s lips.

The Galran’s ears folded back. “Well, no…”

“Then, why shouldn’t I call you Shiro?” Lance laughed at the responding growl. “You know what? You’re pretty cute. I think I wanna keep you.”

Shiro’s ears straightened forward immediately. “What?”

Lance patted Shiro’s head before standing, “I’ll be right back.”

Shirogarthak’s mind ran a mile a minute as Lance left the room. As soon as the doors thudded shut, he was working to get to his feet. He needed to get out of here. He’d rather die than become some Altean’s pet. A shudder passed through him at the thought. He walked to the door, working his wrists in the cuffs holding them. The doors didn’t open as he approached them. He frowned. They must be locked from the outside. His eyes swept over the room, looking for any other means of escape.

A buzz sounded as the cuffs finally deactivated and fell from his wrists. Shirogarthak smirked as he stretched his arms over his head, his back giving a satisfying pop before he dropped them back to his sides and shook them out. He returned to scouring the room for another exit. Soon, he found a vent up near the ceiling that appeared to be for maintenance workers. He pulled a plush chair beneath its location and stood on it in order to reach it. He curled his claws into the grate and yanked it off the wall, the broken screws dropping to the floor with tiny metallic clinks. Then, he hefted himself up and inside. He just barely managed to fit. He had to hunch his shoulders as he shimmied through, which wasn’t the most comfortable thing to do, but it was better than becoming stuck.

He had managed to get rather far through the vents before an alarm sounded through the ship. His ears folded back against the noise as he picked up the pace. He finally reached another grate and attempted to peer through it to see what was on the other side. Unable to see anything except a few stripes of blue, the Galran shrugged and pushed against the sheet of metal. When it didn’t budge, he adjusted himself and sent his fist flying. The grate dented. A couple hits later, it fell, hanging from a single screw. He grinned in triumph, pulling himself out of the vent and rolling forward to land on his feet. However, he didn’t hit solid ground.

Instead, his body was enveloped in a wet warmth. He flailed about at first before realizing he could stand. He blinked, his fur and skintight suit sopping wet. Water. He was in water. Looking around, he realized he was in an extravagant bathing facility of some sort. Why anyone would need a lake to bathe in, he didn’t know. He waded his way to the edge of the pool and got out, shaking out his fur in a futile attempt to dry off. A shiver passed through him as the air turned chilly due to his soaked state. He marched his way over to a door and waited until it opened. Once it did, his jaw dropped.

Lance looked over at him from where he was leaning casually against a wall. A smirk graced his lips. “Welcome back.”

Shirogarthak glanced over his shoulder in bewilderment, utterly speechless. He was back where he started.

Lance pushed away from the wall and over to the Galran, his hands - Soft hands, Shirogarthak noticed. - taking his and locking a new, shiny pair of cuffs onto his wrists. “Don’t you know it’s rather rude to keep a lady waiting? C’mon. I’ve made a fantastic argument, and it would be a shame if you slipped away and ruined your chances.”

Shirogarthak could only follow as he was tugged and lead out of the room, dumbstruck. The alarm still sounded loud in their ears as they navigated the winding corridors until they ended up on what the Galran could only assume was the bridge. The empress stood at her station, hands out at the ready and her eyes staring straight at the image on the screen before her.

“Your highness!” Lance called as he bounded forward, a spring in his step.

“Not now, Lance,” the empress snapped as the screen lit up with explosions. The ship suddenly shuddered, and the lights flickered. The woman paid it no mind, barking orders to a few crewmen who went scrambling to follow the harsh commands.

Lance pouted before moving to drag the Galran closer to her stand. “You said you wanted another look at him before you decided. I have him right here. Just give him a quick look. It’ll take ten ticks tops.”

Jaw clenching, the empress closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning her head to look at them. Her blue eyes roamed over their prisoner, her jaw slowly relaxing as she became more thoughtful. She tilted her head before reaching out to lift Shirogarthak’s chin, not seeming bothered by the fact that his fur was dripping wet. He stiffened at her touch. She was much too tall for his comfort. It was uncommon for him to find anyone taller than him, and yet, the empress was a whole head and a half so. He swallowed nervously as she made him turn his head this way and that before dropping her hand. She returned to her position without a word.

A whoop to his left startled the Galran. He whipped his head to the side to stare at Lance incredulously. Lance grinned and grabbed his arm, hauling him out of the bridge with a strength the Galran forgot the Altean possessed. Shirogarthak’s nose scrunched in confusion. “She didn’t say anything.”

Lance glanced over his shoulder and gave him a wink. “Don’t worry. She didn’t have to.”

That only served to confuse the Galran more to the Altean’s amusement. A smile stayed on Lance’s face as he practically dragged Shirogarthak back to that room and into the bathing room. Lance let go of him and deactivated the cuffs. “Strip. You’re going to bathe. No offense but you-”

“I’m not,” Shirogarthak growled, advancing on the other and making Lance stumble back in alarm, “going to be _some Altean’s_ _docile_ _pet.”_

Back now against the wall, Lance found himself crowded by the Galran in front of him. He could feel the warmth of the other’s breath fanning down over his face. He tilted his head up slowly to look Shiro in the eye. All traces of his previous alarm and surprise were now gone. Instead, a coy smirk curled his lips. “Oh, no. Of course not. Docile wouldn’t look good on you at all, Shiro.”

The Galran’s body tensed at the nickname. If his fur wasn’t still wet, it would be bristling as his mouth opened and closed while he tried to find the words to convey just how angry he was becoming. Lance grabbed the front of Shiro’s suit, yanking him down closer, and touched their foreheads together. He whispered, mere centimeters away from his lips, “However, I _do_ know what would look good on you.”

Shirogarthak jerked backwards immediately in response, yanking free from Lance’s grasp, only to slip on the slick tile underneath and fall right into a section of the bath. Lance was laughing when the Galran stood up out of the water. Shiro sputtered and wiped the water out of his eyes. Lance sashayed over to the edge of the bath with a grin, his laughter quelling. “Cleanliness. That’s what I meant would look good on you. Get out of the suit, and bathe properly. I’ll bring you some new clothes.”

He turned and left the room with a bounce in his step. Shirogarthak could only stare after the Altean in shock. Numbly, he reached back and unzipped his suit to slip out of it. He rolled the wet fabric down and tossed it to the edge of the pool, not bothering to make sure it didn’t fall back into the warm water. Then, he proceeded to sink down into the water until the surface of it was just under his nose. He had to admit to himself that the bath actually did feel nice. Normally, he couldn’t afford such a luxury. A quick shower was all he and the other members of the rebellion usually allowed themselves, and even then, the water was frigid. His ears drooped as the warmth he was currently surrounded in eased his tense and sore muscles. His eyes slipped closed as he allowed himself this small moment of peace to quietly ponder his options of escape.

Lance casually strolled his way back in with a stack of clothes in his arms and set it down on a plush chair in the corner of the room. He glanced over to the Galran in the bath, a smile hinting at the edge of his lips. Quietly, he made his way over to the edge of the bath and sat down, blue eyes still fixed on the other. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Shiro cracked an eye open to look up at him before turning his back to the Altean. Lance pouted. “You’re just going to ignore me now? Rude.”

Shiro lifted his mouth from under the water. “What’s rude is supporting the enslavement of different people across the universe and not allowing them to keep their will.”

Lance dropped his gaze at that, chewing on his bottom lip. Silence settled between them. Shiro took that as a sign that their conversation was done with. However, after taking in a sharp breath, Lance spoke once more. “She- _We_ didn’t mean for anything like this to happen…”

Shiro turned to look at him out of the corner of his eye with his brows furrowed in question.

“The hoktril wasn’t-” Lance frowned, moving to stand up. “Nevermind. Ignore me. I’m a bit of an idiot. I put your clothes in the chair over there. I’ll be in the bed chamber.”

Before Shirogarthak could say anything, Lance was out of the room. The Galran stared at the door for a solid minute, mulling over the conversation. He needed more information. Perhaps, he could pretend for a while. It would only just be long enough to gain trust and grab information to use against the empress. Then, he could, hopefully, make his escape.

His mind wandered to his crew as he finally reached for bottles of what he assumed was some kind of soap. He wondered if his partner in arms would be alright with his sudden disappearance. He frowned. Yorak was more likely to wreck through a fleet of Altean ships after finding out the mission was compromised. The other Galran would definitely be upset that he took this mission alone despite being warned against it. Shirogarthak sighed through his nose, a headache already building from the stress of his situation.

Whatever the outcome of this mission, he knew he was going to hate the duration of his stay as a _pet_ to the empress of all people. He could only hope that he could convince them to keep the back of his head hoktril-free.


	2. Chapter 2

A comb slid through the Galran’s drying fur in quick, sure strokes. He winced and growled a warning every time its teeth encountered a knot. Lance would simply murmur an apology without pausing. Shirogarthak was not the least bit pleased about his current predicament. He had been chained in the empress’s chambers for nearly an entire movement-- judging by the ship’s light cycles --and had yet to see hide or hair of her since she had “approved” of him on the bridge of the ship. However, he saw her advisor at least once a quintant. Lance fed him, clothed him, made sure he bathed, and anything else the Galran could possibly need. The Altean did it all without complaint and despite any complaining done by Shirogarthak himself.

Lance carded his fingers through the tuft of lighter fur at the top of the Galran’s head, finally done with grooming him. “I love the new shampoo. It’s made you so soft. We’re definitely getting more of it.”

Shirogarthak bristled and batted at his hand. He slid away from the Altean, the cuff around his ankle only allowing him so far from the end of the bed on the floor.  “Don’t do that.”

Lance pouted at him but complied. The mechanical door suddenly whirred open, the empress gliding in and straight to where Lance sat on the edge of the bed. Her hands immediately cupped his face, and she almost desperately pressed her mouth to his with a furrowed brow. Lance didn’t even flinch to the Galran’s surprise. Instead, he stood to allow the overly tall woman to better reach him. Shirogarthak couldn’t tear his eyes away from the startling scene. Soon, she released him.

“Lance, I swear you’re the only one I can trust…” Allura pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to his forehead before her body slowly began to shrink down. Shiro stared with a slack jaw, the fur along the back of his neck raising, as she shrank until she was a couple inches shorter than Lance himself. Only after she pulled away did she seem to notice that Shirogarthak existed in the same space as them. After an uncomfortable pause, she asked, “Has he been fed?”

“Yes, my empress.” Lance replied dutifully as if nothing had just happened. Shirogarthak was at a loss for words of any kind but hunched his shoulders as she approached him. He narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth as she lifted a hand only to have it pat his head. He blinked and opened his mouth, but he closed it a tick later at seeing she was already making her way back towards the bed.

“I’m _exhausted,”_ the empress sighed as she flopped down onto it.

“Allow me to tend to your feet, my empress,” Lance sat down beside her and patted his lap. Shirogarthak continued his earlier gawking as he watched her turn onto her back and prop her feet up on her advisor’s lap.

 _So the rumors were true._ It’s all he could wrap his mind around. The empress’s advisor really was some sort of royal concubine. Was his advisory title just a way of hiding his true status? _No. That couldn’t be right._ Shirogarthak had personally fought against the strategic prowess of the man currently massaging the empress’s feet. _Then, what about the empress’s height?_ His eyes slid back and forth between the two. He knew some Alteans could change color and some of their features. It really shouldn’t have surprised him, but her making such a drastic change in height and holding it for such long periods of time had to take something out of her. _Does doing that only tire her out?_ Then again, the last time she slept in her bed was when he attempted to complete his mission. _What if she has another sleeping chamber that she could stay in?_ The questions kept buzzing around his head, teasing but providing no definite answers.

“Would you like me to rub yours too?” Lance’s playful words cut through his train of thought.

Shirogarthak blinked, only then noticing that he had inched closer to them while he was thinking. Instead of answering, he turned his back to them and laid on the floor. Shuffling sounded behind him before the empress’s voice lilted to his ears, “Does he normally sleep on the floor like that?”

“Yes, my empress.”

“Whatever for?”

“I’ve offered him the bed, but he refuses. He’s... _thoroughly_ expressed his wish to not sleep where you have lain, my empress.”

Silence followed his words. Shirogarthak stilled when he heard feet touch the floor and pad around and-- after a resounding, metallic click --over to him. He sucked in a sharp breath the second something touched his legs only to stiffen further at finding a blanket laid over his form. He twisted onto his back to see the empress bent over him. A small, kind smile touched her lips before she set the pillow that she had tucked under her arm next to him. “These I have not used.”

“How can I be sure?” Shirogarthak asked with a frown.

She gestured to an open chest at the foot of her bed. “The staff keeps extra blankets in there for me in case I get cold. I don’t normally get cold, so I’ve yet to use any of them. But, you may have as many of them as you’d like.”

The galran slowly sat up, one ear forward while the other drooped down as he eyed the chest dubiously. “Uh… thank you?”

Both his ears folded back as she patted his head once more, a more disgruntled frown settling on his face. The empress straightened up and sashayed back to the bed, her overall demeanor seeming a bit lighter than before. This time, she crawled in and settled under the covers. Before she closed her eyes, however, she reached over and touched Lance’s wrist. Lance took ahold of her hand and lifted it, pressing a small kiss to her knuckles before whispering, “I’ll keep you safe, my empress. May your dreams be vast and fill your heart with everlasting wonder.”

A giggle-- _A giggle._ \--slipped out of the empress before she murmured, “Thank you, my starshine. I entrust my life to you.”

Lance released her hand after her eyes closed. He stayed seated near her until her breathing evened out and deepened. Shirogarthak laid back down, keeping his glowing eyes on Lance as he stood, but the Altean only walked to a chair at the opposite end of the room and sat back down, pulling a knife from his boot and a block of wood from his pocket.

“You whittle?” Shirogarthak asked quietly.

“To keep myself awake, yes,” Lance answered, keeping his eyes on his task. The knife slid through the wood as easily as if it were sliding through lard, revealing just how sharp it was.

“Was that the knife you threw at me?”

Lance paused, raising his gaze to smirk at the Galran. “When you attempted to assassinate Empress Allura? Perhaps. You really are lucky, you know. I haven’t missed in deca-phoebs.”

“You do have pretty good aim. It was only due to my quick reflexes that I wasn’t skewered. If I hadn’t stepped back, it would’ve been in my throat.”

“Rest assured, I will make it a point to not miss again. Quick reflexes or no. I put the empress’s safety above even my own.”

“I don’t understand how you can devote yourself to someone like that.”

“What do you mean?” Lance’s brow furrowed, his hands ceasing their movements.

“Empress Allura is responsible for the enslavement of over half the currently known universe. I just don’t see how you can follow such a tyrant.”

Lance studied him silently for a moment, his eyes calculating. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees and hands hanging loosely between them. “She’s a force to be reckoned with for sure, but she’s not what you think she is.”

“I think her vile and cruel.”

“She’s anything but that.”

“Her actions as a ruler have shown otherwise.”

“Talk to her if you don’t believe me.”

Shirogarthak bared his fangs with a deep growl. “I’ll have nothing to do with her as long as I can help it.”

Lance rolled his eyes with a huff, leaning back in his seat. “It’s a facade. Her hands are tied. She’d give anything to be able to right the wrongs that have been committed.”

 _“Right_. I’ll believe that when I survive flying into a star.”

“You’re just like _them.”_ The way the words were muttered caused a dreadful shiver to crawl down his spine and a heaviness to wrap around the pit of his stomach. There was a darkness to Lance’s eyes now that he didn’t like. Shirogarthak eyed the way Lance’s hand tightened around the knife still in his hand. He decided it wise to drop the conversation before the Altean decided he was no longer worth keeping around. He turned away, tucking the pillow that was given to him to his chest rather than under his head and curling around it.  The sound of a blade carving into wood started back up and eventually lulled him to sleep.

Vargas later, he awoke to the sharp, familiar smell of rusted metal. Sitting up in alarm, his gaze darted about the room until it froze on a puddle of black near the door. He stumbled to his feet and made his way over to investigate it only to pause when the door whirred open. Lance stepped in and raised a brow at him. “Oh, so you sleep through someone coming in, but you’re awake now that everything’s all fine and dandy? What the quiznak’s up with that?”

“I um…?” Shirogarthak grimaced. “Someone snuck in?”

“Yep,” Lance popped the ‘p’ as he passed the Galran and made his way back to his seat against the wall. “She seemed to have the same goal as you did. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to have your... _reflexes.”_

The Galran’s gaze dropped back down to the blood staining the floor, imagining himself in that same spot: eyes open and lifeless, the same knife Lance used to carve sticking out of his throat. If he hadn’t have managed to take that one step back… He breathed in shakily before asking quietly, “What color was on her suit…?”

“Green.”

Relief flooded his veins. It wasn’t someone from his faction. He returned to his spot on the floor and sat back down, feeling the Altean’s eyes following his every move. It wasn’t long before Lance spoke again.

“A color-coded rebellion, huh? Nice to know. It’ll help us out a lot.”

Shirogarthak clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together as he turned to glare at the other. “As I’ve stated before, the Altean reign over the universe will be ended. The rebellion _will_ free the people you have enslaved.”

Lance chuckled, a carefree smirk on his face. “The empress and I look forward to it.”

The Galran never wished to have a weapon on his person as much as he did in that moment. Instead of responding, he laid down and yanked the blanket back over himself. Though he found himself unable to for the rest of the night, he tried his damndest to feign sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thank you to ecstatic-nerd (on here and on tumblr) for help looking this chapter over <3


End file.
